Karachi Chronicles – The Beach

Karachi’s beaches are a matter of pride – especially when you are in a conversation with a Lahori. Random fact.

I have always had an affinity with all things water; I love beaches and water parks. This time around, another friend of mine was also visiting and had planned a trip to Tushan with the usual culprits. My appearance was meant to be a surprise, and I was hoping for it to be a pleasant one.

I had never been to Tushan before; I had seen it in pictures and always fancied a visit, but the ride was rumoured to be a nightmare and hence we never attempted. Mr N says he had taken me once to this beach but my memory fails me. Do you blame me? With him around, no scenery can ever hold my attention. *cheese overload, I get it*

Anyway. So after working out logistics, and I do mean working out for it took considerable time and effort, we arrived. A friend had arranged for Paganwala Hut (it’s famous, apparently), which was used merely to change and keep our belongings. The cost did not include petrol and we had no electricity or running water. I wouldn’t recommend the hut, unless you could add in running water, electricity and clean sheets in the same price.

The beach…it was beautiful. It was neither crowded nor exceptionally dirty, with soothing waves and a lifeguard! We threw caution to air and dived in. Three odd hours went by in a blink and we came out of water as happy, tired children.

As I was visiting after a long time, I had missed out on a lot of important developments on the F&B front. All the places I had considered cool were uncool now, and there was a new crop of IT places in town. We decided to go to Pranzo as it is one of the few places in town offering sheesha after a city-wide ban was imposed recently. There was nothing OTT about it; it’s a regular café, with an outdoor seating arena and neon basement lounge. And then came the price shock.

No matter what my paycheck says, I’d always gasp if my tea comes for Rs.160. It just doesn’t make sense. I don’t do sheesha, so I am not sure if Rs.2,000 for blowing out flavoured smoke is worth it or not, but I’d never pay that much for a tea and enjoy it. Thankfully it wasn’t available, so we ordered random, unimpressive dishes, and devoured them over morbid ghost stories.

With subtle signs of flu rearing their ugly heads, I really needed tea and was driven to the IT chai street. It has Chai Shai and this other café with graffiti on the wall (can’t remember the name, sorry). It reminded of Fili’s for it had about a hundred cars, parked infuriatingly, with families enjoying tea and snacks on plastic tables and chairs on the pavement. We got our teas, and FA dropped all girls at home, starting from Clifton to North Nazimabad, sans a single word of complaint. He is a gem and a half – bless him.

I had hoped the tea would kick the germs in the bud but who was I kidding? All hail the flu…for it ruined the rest of my already-short trip.